


His World

by teletou



Category: Senyuu.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teletou/pseuds/teletou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He belongs,</i> Alba wants to tell him. </p><p>More than anything, Alba wants him to feel like he deserves everything and so much more.</p><p>Ross' world is one he had lost once before. The world he had wished for came in an old, worn piece of something he has today.</p><p>If it had been any different―</p>
            </blockquote>





	His World

**Author's Note:**

> I probably fucked up the timeline somewhere in the process I'm sorry.

“He sure is living a peaceful life, isn't he, Alba-san?” 

His breath fogs the window, blurs the profile of Ross' head, the corners of a small smile. He says nothing for a while, gaze fixated on Ross – his back, his shoulders, the almost longing look he watches his family with. Alba wonders, if Ross ever feels far removed from normality, out of place in situations where he thinks like he doesn't belong. 

“Yeah,” he says, voice distant, dazed. “I'm really happy for him.”

Fingerprints smudge against glass, trailed smears as he lets his hands slide a few centimetres down.

 

\---

 

He sees it again, when Ross and Ruki visits him at home. 

His mother leaves with a sunny smile after setting them a bowl of snacks and coffee on the kitchen table, ruffling Alba's hair on her way out.

He stops, hands frozen on the sides of head, when catches a flicker of red.

Behind a frame of a shadow – his arms lining the vertical edges of his sight – Ross with a wistful smile. Alba looks down to the cup of coffee in front of him. Strands of his hair flicks up as he drags his hands down to fold over the table. He wraps his fingers around his cup, feels heat seep into his skin.

His lips part around a slow exhale, rising steam billows away into fading wisps.

 

\---

 

 _He belongs,_ Alba wants to tell him.

More than anything, Alba wants him to feel like he deserves everything and so much more.

Ross' world is one he had lost once before. The world he had wished for came in an old, worn piece of something he has today.

If it had been any different―

A world where Ross would feel at home―

 _Perhaps, he could_ ―

 

\---

 

"Do... do you want me go give you― It'll be as if nothing happened―" Alba stammers over his textbooks. He looks away, to the cave floor some distance from him. Fingers laced together, he worries the pen he's holding, ink staining his hands and leaves of paper on his desk. "I think... I can do that. Yeah…"

He thinks his pen might have snapped in half, gripped tight, pointed straight upwards.

"I'm pretty sure I can," he mutters softly, tension slowly slipping.

Silence passes between them. Alba distantly hears his pen roll from between his fingers and fall onto the desk with a thud. He keeps his fingers curled, eyes locked onto their shadows across the white page.

"Uwah, that's gross,” Ross says. "Aren't you getting ahead of yourself, Yuusha-san?"

He doesn't look up, keeps his head down when he replies, "No, I just…"

"What makes you think I want that?" He can't read the emotions in his voice. Alba thinks he might be afraid to see the expression Ross has on his face right now.

"I…"

"There's a lot of things that you should think about before you go around and change whole universes, you know."

He stays quiet, lips pursed.

"You wouldn't be able to save _those two,_ for one."

His jaw clenches.

"You'd probably doom the world somehow."

It's hard to breathe. This was a mistake. _He shouldn't have―_

"There won't be any magic."

He's starting to shake, guilt shooting down his arms, crawling under his skin. His heart drums, and his breath shakes. He opens his mouth, forces the caught beginnings of a word into the space between them.

 _'I'm sorry,'_ comes as a silent gasp of air.

“...We wouldn't have met."

Alba stops, then. A blink, once, twice, and he braves himself a peek. Ross looks at him, a rare smile across his lips.

"You're trying to do too much,” he says, fondly, slowly, as if talking to an especially endearing but troublesome child. “There's nothing better than a miracle, Yuusha-san."

"A miracle?” The word feels foreign. Surreal, almost.

"The best possible outcome." Shaking his head in disbelief, Ross leans over the table to flick Alba's forehead. "What did you think this was?"

Alba squawks, hands flying to soothe the blooming pain between his brows. He pouts and shoots a petulant glare towards Ross. "I-I thought I could give you something, you know? In return _―_ "

"For what? I'm happy." Ross shrugs before he tilts head, his eyes crinkling with a heartfelt smile, hair brushing against his cheeks. He looks straight at Alba, his heart bared open, bright and dazzling, warmth overflowing. "You've given me more than I've ever asked for."

 


End file.
